


Intimate Interruption

by bettythetl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Closet Sex, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettythetl/pseuds/bettythetl
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley make rather good use of the closet in the hallway of the Wall Scene instead of being interrupted.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82





	Intimate Interruption

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://tadfield-advertiser.dreamwidth.org/517.html?thread=243717#cmt243717) July 9, 2019. Come join us!

If she’d been a few minutes faster, Mary might not have had to hear a body thumping against the door to the closet off the main hall in such a way that she was vaguely worried that it might just thump itself right off the hinges. She might have made some kind of quip about not interrupting an intimate scene. In fact, if she had been a few minutes faster, that’s _exactly_ what would have happened, with a little dash of hypnotism and memory modification for good measure. That is _not_ , however, what actually happened. Because Mary Hodges, once a Sister who was very Loquacious indeed, was delayed by the distraction of a live round of ammunition whizzing past her head, she completely missed when Master Crowley slammed someone with whom he was very familiar, but not yet _intimately_ familiar, against the wall right next to that very worrisome door.  
  
Aziraphale, the person with which Master Crowley was very familiar indeed, did not miss the slamming since he was the one being shoved against the wall. Unneeded breath caught in his throat when Crowley snarled in his face, Aziraphale couldn’t help to notice that their noses were only a whisper apart and that Crowley’s snarl was vibrating through where their chests were pressed together, and… He also couldn’t help dropping his eyes to stare at Crowley’s snarling, snapping mouth, and it took him a moment to realize that it was no longer snarling, and it was actually smirking at him, though just a hint of a snarl was still present in the faint curl of his lip that exposed just the tiniest bit of teeth that were slightly too sharp to be _normal_ , and…  
  
“Angel, you shouldn’t go poking like that, else you end up biting off more than you can chew,” Crowley drawled, and Aziraphale’s eyes snapped up at last, his mind catching up to what his eyes were doing.  
  
“Well we both know I can chew quite a lot,” Aziraphale quipped without thinking, and both of Crowley’s eyebrows rose above his glasses at that in a way that Aziraphale had to constantly remind himself he didn’t find endearing, except… His eyes ducked down again, and this time he felt Crowley’s gaze hot on his own mouth, and well, he’d been tempted by this demon for too long, for heav-hel- _fuck’s sake_. When Crowley’s grip lessened on his lapel as if he were about to let go so they could continue their search, Aziraphale brought his own hands up and grabbed Crowley back. He found himself using the wave of heat that zinged down his spine at the way Crowley had lifted him the scant three inches’ difference in their heights so they were nose to nose, using that heat to give him the courage to grab Crowley back, tip his own head to the side, and slide their mouths together.  
  
For a brief moment, Aziraphale was afraid that he’d stopped time in a fit of emotion as that heat streaked up his spine again and closely followed by a wave of ice that robbed him of his breath and made him gasp desperately against Crowley’s mouth. Crowley wasted to time and tipped his own head, groaning as he devoured Aziraphale’s mouth and gripping Aziraphale tight to him again. This time he moved his hands so one was caught in those ridiculously wonderful curls Aziraphale had been sporting all these years and so the other was gripping his hip in such a way that Aziraphale felt as if he were burning from the inside out from the way that hand seemed to be branding him.  
  
Crowley used his grip to drag Aziraphale blindly away from the wall and only briefly broke the kiss, quietly reveling in the wounded groan that earned him, when he turned his head to look around and see if there was someplace he could move them so they wouldn’t be seen. Now, most demons didn’t care about being seen doing what Crowley hoped they were about to do, but Crowley wanted no one to see his angel like this. Call him possessive, but… Yeah just go on and call him possessive. This was _his_ angel, and no one but he was going to see Aziraphale how he currently was, flushed and clinging and as rapturous as the first time he’d seen him trying some new dish, and well _that_ thought was going to make their next dinner date a _problem_.  
  
Aziraphale allowed himself to be steered into a dark room, also allowing himself a faint yelp as he almost fell over a broom. He clutched tight to Crowley who hissed out a low laugh against the skin of his neck as he spun them to pin Aziraphale against the closed door, once more slotting their lips together as he bent his head to connect them once again. Aziraphale let loose that same high sound from before, though it was in response to Crowley shoving his way as close as possible and lifting one of his thighs, glorious and thick and wonderful, so it was hitched around his hip.  
  
Crowley choked on a laugh into his angel’s mouth as the blond decided to take some initiative and try to get his other leg to join the first, but it went a little awry when his foot caught a bucket and it clanged against the wall as he tried to both kick it off his foot and hop up to lock his ankles around Crowley. They paused for a moment at the clang, but no one came to the door. Then they paused a little more to laugh again, Aziraphale’s breathy giggles mixing rather nicely with Crowley’s low chuckles, before the angel tipped his head back against the door and slipped a hand just past the edge of Crowley’s jacket to press his palm to the demon’s side. He moaned against Crowley’s lips as the heat of the demon’s body radiated through him again, and Crowley chose to press himself more fully against Aziraphale again, this time sliding a thigh between Aziraphale’s.  
  
Aziraphale had never truly felt light headed before, but as they began to rock, and Crowley bit at his lip, the angel felt something like it. It was hard for him to draw a breath, and he clutched at Crowley’s lapels as he let loose a particularly demanding whimper, trying once again to hook his leg around Crowley’s waist until Crowley growled and took matters into his own hands. He used that strength he’d displayed earlier, and he once more grabbed Aziraphale by the thigh, both of those wonderful luscious thighs this time, lifting him with ease so his back hit the door and his legs were locked around Crowley’s waist. The angel’s head hit the door with a thump as their rocking began anew, and he panted hotly, hands coming up to muss Crowley’s already wild hair when the demon’s mouth fastened to the skin of his neck just above his bow tie, and oh those marks were definitely going to be visible…  
  
The angel found it rather hard to care when Crowley started whispering to him, telling him how perfect he was and how amazing he was for Crowley, and “Oh, Angel why didn’t you just _tell_ me you wanted this? Always running your mouth but not actually _saying_ something to me, _fuck_!” The last expletive slipped from both angel and demon as Aziraphale rather lost control of himself a bit and pulled at Crowley’s hair to drag their lips together again, swallowing Crowley’s cry as the demon climaxed. Aziraphale’s hips worked rather frantically against Crowley, and the demon obliged him, shoving him hard against the door one more time and biting hard at his lower lip. That was all the angel needed, and it was Crowley’s turn to savor the long whine Aziraphale made when his body had enough, and the angel bucked against him one more time before stilling and trembling between Crowley and the door.  
  
They took a moment to compose themselves, their kisses turning languid and slow as Aziraphale reached up to straighten Crowley’s glasses where they’d been knocked askew by his grasping fingers while Crowley did the same to his loosened bowtie. Crowley had no problem twisting his wrist, and the two of them were more or less set to rights with no physical evidence of their activities causing marks on their clothing. Well, Crowley could’ve passed it off, but not Aziraphale and that wonderful suit of his, the demon mused to himself with a faint smirk. As they finished getting themselves together, they realized simultaneously that someone was knocking on the door.  
  
“Sorry to break up an intimate moment, but,” a woman’s voice sounded from beyond the door, and something in Crowley sat up and took notice. He cast a look at Aziraphale before flinging open the door once the angel was out of the way.  
  
Demon and human stared, frozen for a moment, before Crowley recognized her, hissing, “You!”  
  
At the same time, Mary, who was very loquacious indeed and also very not ready to see the demon before her, gasped out, “Saints and demons preserve us, it’s Master Crowley!”  
  
Crowley smirked and snapped his fingers, and suddenly they were back on the chase. He looked at Aziraphale and grinned outright at the exasperation on the angel’s face, rather finding himself looking forward to whatever scolding he was about to receive.


End file.
